Summary: “How do you know he loves you?” Momo asks a difficult question.
Ryoma wipes sweat of his forehead after practice when Momo’s question catches him off guard.
“How do you know he loves you?” Momo asks.
Ryoma stares at his friend. How is he supposed to answer that? No response comes to him, so he doesn’t offer one. He shrugs instead.
Momo continues, oblivious to the fact Ryoma isn’t participating in the conversation. “He doesn’t walk you to class. He doesn’t buy you chocolate or flowers. I’ve never seen you hold hands and he’s never kissed you in front of anyone.”
Ryoma has a feeling, if he doesn’t interrupt, that Momo’s checklist will never end. “And?” he asks, hoping to force his friend to get to the point. He’s going over to Fuji’s for the weekend and the tensai should be finishing up in the club room soon.
“And the two of you never go on dates,” Momo says. “So how do you know he loves you?”
Ryoma tugs his cap over his eyes. He can’t explain it to Momo, because his friend won’t understand. “Che,” he says. “I’m not a girl.”
Momo sighs in exasperation. “I know that! But don’t you get lonely in such a cold relationship?”
Cold? Ryoma mouths. There is nothing cold about his relationship with Fuji. The teeth marks on his back and the hickeys on his shoulders-right where no one else can see them-are proof of that. Fuji is the most passionate lover he’s ever had. “No,” he says.
“But the two of you don’t even act like friends!” Momo’s letting his frustration get the better of him.
Ryoma has to hide a smirk as it occurs to him how much Fuji would enjoy watching Momo squirm.
And then he doesn’t have to wonder, because Fuji is striding across the grounds toward them. “Saa,” he says, hefting his tennis bag further up his shoulder. “Why are you here, Momoshiro?”
Ryoma doesn’t miss the edge in Fuji’s tone, or the subtle tightening of his grip on the strap of his bag.
But Momo doesn’t notice. “Aa, I have some free time today,” he says. “I was asking Echizen a question.”
“Oh?” With those few words, Fuji’s interest is piqued. “What question?”
Momo is suddenly unable to meet Fuji’s gaze. “Nothing important,” he mutters.
Fuji looks between the two of them for a moment, before he turns to Ryoma. “Ryu-chan,” he says, tone deceptively calm. “Mind tell me what’s going on?”
Ryoma swallows. If he doesn’t put Fuji at ease, and soon, he is going to find himself at the end of an open-eyed, angry, tensai. “Che,” he says. “It was a stupid question.”
Fuji taps his foot once; a warning.
“He asked how I knew you loved me,” Ryoma says, hating the way his face flushes as he explains.
Fuji’s posture relaxes. “Ah,” he says, then turns his gaze on Momo. But when he speaks, he’s addressing Ryoma. “Are my feelings unclear to you?”
“No, Syuusuke,” Ryoma says.
Momo frowns. “But how do you know?” he asks again. “He never-
Fuji steps forward and draws Ryoma in for a heated kiss. One that leaves the freshman dazed when he draws back. “Never what?” he asks, pasting an innocent smile on his face.
Momo’s eyes go wide as he gapes at them, slack-jawed. “But-” he stutters.
Fuji smiles. “Let’s go home, Ryu.”
“Che,” Ryoma says, but he takes Fuji’s hand in his. They walk away from Seigaku, leaving Momo sputtering behind them.
A moment of silence passes before Fuji speaks. “Does it bother you?”
“Hm?”
“That I’m not a normal boyfriend.”
Ryoma snorts. “If I wanted normal, Syu, I wouldn’t be dating you.
Luana Araceli 